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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29807301">Darkness and Devotion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luckyfirerabbit/pseuds/Luckyfirerabbit'>Luckyfirerabbit</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Castlevania (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Established Relationship, F/F, Gentle Domming, Gentle Praise Kink, Sensation Play, blinfold play, i guess, soft gay shit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 07:54:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,949</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29807301</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luckyfirerabbit/pseuds/Luckyfirerabbit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>(From the Shatranj continuity) mentioned Morana and Striga having some fun with a blindfold, and thought that deserved its own bit. Enjoy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Morana/Striga (Castlevania)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Darkness and Devotion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Striga sits on the ottoman in front of the crackling, glowing hearth in her chambers, bracing her elbows on her knees with her fingers laced beneath her chin. She waits, calm, curious, patient, momentarily lost in the dancing flames and the warmth they cast across her half bare body. She's only faintly paying any attention to the near silent shuffling about the room behind her, Morana doing whatever it is she's doing now. To be honest, Striga is still trying to figure out exactly what she's up to, though Morana has tried to explain it to her more than once -not because her lady was speaking in something like riddles, it was more so wrapping her head around <em>why</em> Morana wished to do this in the first place.</p><p>Just an experiment, she had said. Just indulging curiosity.</p><p>And, of course, Morana had given her ample opportunities to decline, and likely would still give them yet, but Striga admitted that her own curiosity had been piqued as well. To say nothing of her puzzlement around the matter.</p><p>Then again, being on the <em>receiving</em> end of such attentions is still <em>so</em> new, and it's with that in mind that Striga finds a little hope in being pleasantly surprised.</p><p>"Are you ready, love?"</p><p>Striga reflexively smiles at the soft rasp of her lover's voice. "Suppose I am." she sighs in response, her tone a manifestation of the comfort Morana's presence gives her. Then she's taking a breath and leaning into the body that lines along her spine from behind, the back of her head resting against soft breasts. She cuts a fanged smile and looks up, meeting Morana's pale blue eyes that flash with amber firelight.</p><p>Nimble, smaller hands smooth over broad shoulders, along the sharp ridges of collarbones, and then down to the twisted stretch of fabric at Striga's bust. "May I?" she asks softly, with a soft smirk.</p><p>"You may, if you must." and Striga happily accepts the kiss to her forehead as Morana's hands do away with the binding across her breasts. "Suppose I should divest myself entirely?"</p><p>A little, breathy laugh. "Might as well." Then Morana takes a step back as Striga stands up, appreciating that powerful body at its full height as she moves to stand in front of the larger vampire. She reaches out, tugging the tie of Striga's trousers with a single talon, meeting her lover's intense green eyes with a silent request. Striga merely nods, looking amused and not breaking eye contact as a gentle, steady pull of Morana's crooked finger is enough to loosen the tie and send the garment pooling to the floor.</p><p>They look at each other and chuckle for no reason, perhaps simply because they are happy and wish to share it with one another.</p><p>Striga reaches out to half cup Morana's upper arm with one big hand, encouraging her forward until their bodies press and she can take Morana's lips in a loving, deep but gentle kiss.</p><p>"So what are the rules of this game, my lady?" she purrs, her lips just brushing Morana's that tremble with a sigh.</p><p>"You simply do as I ask, provided it does not go beyond your comfort."</p><p>Striga hums and nods, kissing her again, her hands coaxing an arch out of Morana as they slide down the natural curve of her back to palm her backside. "And what would you ask of me first?"</p><p>"To sit down." comes a gently panting, slightly dazed reply. "Please."</p><p>Another curt nod, another peck to Morana's lips, and then Striga carefully bends to reclaim her seat, pushing her discarded trousers aside with her foot before bracing her elbows on her knees again. She looks up at Morana now, open and waiting.</p><p>Morana steps forward, close to make Striga straighten and let her stand in the space between her muscular thighs. Her hand splays across Morana's still clothed belly, feeling out the shapes of soft musculature through the material of her nightgown before letting her hand rest at the bend of her hip. Still looking up, Striga's eyes cut to Morana's hand as it rises to stroke her cheek with the bends of her dainty knuckles.</p><p>"You're still all right with this?" Morana asks again. She raises her other hand, making sure her lover can see the stretch of silk she holds. She watches Striga's eyes flit away from her, to her hand, and back again.</p><p>"I am."</p><p>"And you will say so if that changes?"</p><p>"I will." Morana's unrestrained and consistent displays of care for Striga makes her dead heart clench. "I trust you."</p><p>Morana smiles and takes a breath. That hand at Striga's cheek slides lower, to the line of her jaw that she follows to her chin. Her hand open, gently grasping, more so to keep Striga's attention than to keep her still. "Eyes on me then."</p><p>"Happily."</p><p>There's something so humbling to Morana about having this incredible, powerful woman so pliant to her whims, at her mercy. It makes her heart soften and her core clench in unison, and the commingling of arousal and awe are just...not unpleasantly strange. It makes her want to laugh, but instead she just smiles and carefully lays the sable silk across her lover eyes.</p><p>Striga feels more confusion than panic as she is separated from the world around her by total darkness. Morana had assured her this particular element served a purpose - <em>"It should heighten your other senses. Make things feel stronger than usual. Of course you can stop me at any time, should you find you don't like it."</em> - but then she struggles with concepts versus absolutes and realizes she can only wait and see. So to speak.</p><p>The tension is gentle, enough to keep from forgetting it's there -not that she could- and secure. There's a little adjustment as Striga tugs the long point of her ear out from beneath it, garnering a little apology from Morana before she ties a bow in the back. Striga exhales slowly to settle her mind, to accept this as it is and keep her focus on Morana's hands as they linger on her face. She isn't ready for the kiss, startled just a little, and laughs into her lover's mouth before they part.</p><p>"Can you still see? Anything at all?"</p><p>"I cannot. What for us now?" Striga asks, head cocked to follow the sounds of movement around her.</p><p>"Now, we wait. I want to see if you can be comfortable like this before we continue."</p><p>"Very well. You will stay with me, yes?" because the fleeting idea of being left alone like this is <em>not</em> something she likes.</p><p>"Of course." Morana answers readily. "Now, stay right where you are and try to relax."</p><p>"As you wish."</p><p>At first it isn't easy, though she does her best not to let it show. Striga wants to <em>do</em> things -primarily anything involving Morana- but her hands feel empty and her brain is idle and she really doesn't like this right now... then her hands unconsciously come together atop her thighs and she starts to spin her ring. It takes the edge off, gives her mind and her hands something to do, to stimulate and settle her. This lets her relax as Morana requested, more still as she acknowledges the warmth and popping of the fire again. Oh yes, much better.</p><p>Morana does indeed linger around the common table, actually perched on the edge of it, legs crossed and hands bracing behind her leaning body as she watches Striga carefully. Her supernatural senses are keyed very tightly to her lover, mindful of her heart and her breath and the tension in her body. Morana watches and listens for every little thing, all the while counting down in her head. She isn't trying to rush this, but she has an idea of how long she feels willing to wait. No more than a moment or two, after that she will see how Striga is faring.</p><p>She wants Striga to be sensitive, but only so much more than usual, and she certainly doesn't want to make Striga wait too long and risk her being too frustrated to sit still or even proceed. While Striga in such a state makes for great fun, it would mostly be <em>Morana's</em> fun, and that wasn't what this was supposed to be. Already Striga had been an incredible lover, spoiling Morana with attention, now Morana felt it was her turn to try and return such adoration. But such an endeavor needed to be approached methodically, as Striga turned out to be a particular puzzle when it came to arousal and desire -Striga was more keen to the desire to give than to receive, to bring ecstasy rather than find it for herself.</p><p>Morana did not dislike this about her, not at all, but she had her own desires to <em>give</em>. Thankfully Striga agreed to indulge her, as she was just as curious in the manner of her body as Morana.</p><p>"How are you?"</p><p>That powerful frame tenses and her head snaps up. "I am...a little anxious. I'm...eager to do something."</p><p>"Alright. Be patient but a moment more, won't you?"</p><p>"Very well." and the response is a breathy huff, a manifestation of the buzzing anxiety she had mentioned.</p><p>Morana smiles to herself, feeling a touch of excitement and a fresh dose of wonder at the power she holds in the moment. It seemed at least one of Morana's theories about Striga was correct; withholding something she wants gets under her skin in a very unique way -at least when it came to circumstances such as these. That, and Striga was <em>terrible</em> at hiding it, never mind how her heart was enough to give her away.</p><p>With her comfortable smile still well in place, Morana eases out of her nightgown, not seeming to mind whether or not Striga heard her -because she knows Striga is listening. Surely, by now, she's likely even <em>smelling</em> the room in search of her, of anything to stimulate her in place of her lost sight. Morana thinks to give her <em>plenty</em> of stimulus shortly, that smile of hers sharpening in a strangely tender way as she steps out of the puddle of her nightgown. As she walks, she can see Striga's spine steadily straightening.</p><p>Striga feels as though her body has become just a bundle of exposed nerves, and knowing that this is likely what Morana meant and expected did nothing to settle the small itch of uncertainty. It wasn't enough to make her rescind consent, but enough to make her weigh the possibility of doing so. But then there's a sound, something outside of her own heart and her own breath and the growling fireplace. It had to be soft, so soft footsteps, and it could only be Morana, and that was enough to soothe her a great deal. Striga can feel her there, standing just behind her, then there's the sensation of her good lady hovering <em>all around her</em>, and it makes Striga's flesh ache.</p><p>Morana has tucked as close to Striga as she can without touching her, her bare breasts a breath away from brushing against Striga's back. She lingers there, her hands coming up to hover around Striga's face, talons menacingly close to skin, where she waits.</p><p>"So still, my love," Morana revels in the little hiss of air that Striga takes in at the sound her voice so near. "That's good. You're doing very well." Then Striga exhales with a little, trembling noise. "There are more rules, darling. Are you listening?"</p><p>"Y-yes."</p><p>Morana still hasn't touched her, still doesn't intend to just yet. Instead she bends and cranes her neck, putting her mouth near her lover's ear. "Firstly, you will answer every question with words, no less. Understand?"</p><p>"I do." she pants.</p><p>Morana makes a smooth, pleased sound. "Now put your hands down and keep them there, you will not touch me before you are given permission." Comes a loving, commanding whisper.</p><p>Striga takes a quick, deep breath, a noise in her throat that sounds suppressed, no telling what it would have been. With obvious reluctance her hands unwind from each other, and then Striga wills them down to securely grip the edges of the ottoman.</p><p><em>Of course not, I would never touch her without...but I want to touch her so </em><em><b>badly</b></em><em>...</em><em><b>mercy I want her</b></em>.</p><p>But a good soldier follows orders, and Striga was nothing if not a good soldier. Though Morana would always argue that she was far more than that -something Striga loved about her.</p><p>Striga feels her body tensing with need, shaking in recurring bursts, but the motion is so subtle only Morana would notice it. Did she?</p><p>"So well behaved." she purrs. And she <em>does</em> see the little tremors, a part of her thrilling at Striga's reaction to her. "Still comfortable?"</p><p>"M-mostly." Striga's body tenses hard, like she's stretching, but her body barely moves. It gives Morana a delightful view of her musculature at work for a few seconds. "I <em>need</em>," she growls.</p><p>"What is it, my love? Tell me," the Devil himself could not have begged so sweetly.</p><p>"I need to touch you." Striga confesses through a tight jaw, her hands curling tighter into the cushion beneath her, knuckles paling.</p><p>"Not yet." Morana answers in an apologetic way, making an effort not to chuckle at Striga's responding, indignant huff. "But I will touch you. Is there any way, or any where I should not?"</p><p>"Be mindful of my throat. I'm feeling...raw." she swallows thickly. "And your talons."</p><p>"Very well." She grants the smallest kiss to Striga's hair, feels her lover start at the unexpected contact. "Remember, we can stop whenever you wish."</p><p>"Yes. I love you."</p><p>"And I love you." She kisses Striga again, not receiving quite the pronounced physical response as before, but there is one, and that's enough. "Perhaps we should have a word? Something to stop me that is easy to remember? So you don't have to string a whole sentence together?"</p><p>"...Is <em>stop</em> not clear enough?" the question sounds like a puzzled lamentation.</p><p>"It was only a thought, my dear. Perhaps we should have discussed this beforehand. Mayhaps we will later. Until then, stop will do."</p><p>Striga makes a sound that resembled a broken laugh, a pushing and curt exhale that seems to punctuate the end of the conversation.</p><p>It's only now that Morana moves her hands again, pulling them carefully inward to frame Striga's face, dragging an unsteady, open-mouthed groan from somewhere deep within her. Otherwise Striga remains perfectly still, save for the now steady ebb and flow of her ribcage with each breath. Now Morana can feel Striga's pulse, the heat gathering in her body from it, and those hidden, muscle-deep tremors that she could barely see before. Leaving one hand in place, she then smooths the backs of her knuckles across the sharp bend of Striga's cheek, over the dip of one temple, and then along the edge of her pointed ear. Gooseflesh rises beneath her stationary palm, and Striga shakes again.</p><p>"Does that feel good?" She smiles to herself at the fractured whimper of a response. "Words love, you know the rules."</p><p>"<em>Yes</em>."</p><p>"Good girl." then Morana feels the weight of Striga's head fall against her hand, easily cradled, accompanying a second tremulous whine. "You're so pretty like this. Now, head up, please."</p><p>Striga promptly obeys, giving Morana's other hand free reign to mimic the motions of the one before. Her head threatens to dip again as Morana's fingers card through her hair, gently scratching her scalp and pulling downward. Then Morana's hands are gone completely, and it takes every ounce of self discipline she has not to snarl in frustration.</p><p>Morana waits just behind her, counting in her head much like before, but this time only for a few seconds. Just as carefully as before, Morana steps close behind her once more, arms outstretching in the instant before she gathers Striga into them, holding her solid body against her own. It's like Striga <em>caves</em> against her; her arms flex powerfully in resistance against the instinct to touch, but otherwise her body has gone boneless in Morana's arms, trusting her entirely to keep hold of her as Striga feels she's falling apart. She's panting again, loudly, each exhale marked by a throaty whine, and all she can do with what little clarity she still has is focus on the gentle shushing sounds Morana is making. There might be words there, but she can't parse them like this.</p><p>Morana holds her for but a moment, enjoying the weight and the trust. "Sit up." she commands with a certain playfulness, pleased when her lover obliges without delay. Now Morana is moving again, walking around the ottoman, one talon pulling a substantial portion of Striga's long, sable hair along with her, thrilling at the hiss of air pulling between Striga's teeth at the unexpected friction. She decides she likes the look of Striga with a blindfold, likes watching her expression morph around the bar of black silk concealing her eyes. She takes a moment just to admire her, and the very fine sheen of sweat that has gathered on Striga's brow.</p><p>"Hands behind you, and brace."</p><p>It takes Striga a beat to comprehend, but she eventually nods and complies, her hands clawing away from the cushion just to latch onto it again, behind her. The muscles in her shoulders and chest jump with tension, standing out in beautiful, silvery relief. Morana slides into her lap, straddling, and Striga bites her tongue, her head tipping back as a chesty growl grinds through her. But Morana gently pulls her back in, a hand cupping the back of Striga's head.</p><p>Their foreheads press together, and out of some new sort of reflex Striga cranes her neck to chase Morana's lips. She needs to kiss her and she needs to do it <em>now</em> or god help her...</p><p>"Patience." Morana corrects as she pulls away, her free hand at Striga's shoulder to stop her. When Striga stills, relaxes, she eases forward and kisses her. She loves the vibrations of the desperate moan Striga offers, but finds herself resisting the nearly overzealous ferocity behind her lips, pulling away.</p><p>Striga fusses, no real words just noises.</p><p>"Do I need to step away? Give you a chance to calm yourself?"</p><p>"<em>No</em>." a desperate, hot exhale.</p><p>"Then soften, or that's exactly what I'll do." and she watches Striga carefully, waiting to see what she'll do as those sable brows furrow. "It is no more than you have done to me before."</p><p>"And do I make you feel like this? Like you're burning from the inside out?"</p><p>"At times." and it's no lie, though the sensation is ever far from unpleasant. "Now, I am going to kiss you again, and you will be <em>gentle</em>."</p><p>"Yes, my lady." a sound of helpless surrender.</p><p>Morana smiles to herself for a second before tugging Striga back towards her.</p><p>Compared to but a moment ago, Striga is practically frozen in place, barely moving as Morana kisses her. It isn't until Morana chances a little nip at her lips that Striga responds, cautiously returning the gesture with a hopeful hum. Morana allows her to continue, lets Striga add steady degrees of heat and enthusiasm. Striga's tongue teases her lips and she yields to it, arching into Striga with a whimper of her own.</p><p>When they part, Striga is panting like a tired mortal, a single bead of sweat rolling from her temple to her jaw. She feels Morana's hand tightening in her hair, tensing, ready to remind her that she didn't like that, but the notion is abandoned with those fingers don't curl tight enough, and they start to guide her forward again. She feels smooth skin against her lips, recognizes the pules beneath the skin there, and readily lunges for Morana's throat. Teeth grazing, fangs leaving little ribbons of pink that are there and gone again as she takes Morana in by the mouthful.</p><p>"Oh yes, that's good, love." Morana praises softly, loving the rumble that shakes her in response. "Just like that." She jumps a little at a prick of pain, the small spark threatening to wipe her mind. Her own arousal is starting to burn bright within her, and that keeps her from reminding Striga of the need to be soft.</p><p>Striga helplessly follows the guidance of Morana's hand in her hair, helpless because she is still getting exactly what she wants. She is carefully nudged lower, lower, the softness of Morana's throat becoming the line of her collarbone, to the furrow of her sternum, to the plump give of a breast. She doesn't wait for permission, willing to take whatever reprimand her good lady had in store for her as she sucked a taught brown nipple into her mouth. Morana gasps loudly above her, body bending over her and the hand in her hair pulling her closer. Suppose there would be no correction for this?</p><p>"You're perfect." Morana whimpers, her head having dropped to Striga's bare shoulder where she absently kisses whatever skin she can get beneath her lips. She's <em>this</em> close to letting Striga touch, but no, not yet. Not just yet, it will be worth the wait.</p><p>"<em>I want you</em>." Striga rumbles, rattling Morana's ribs.</p><p>"And you shall have me." Morana shudders. "In time."</p><p>"<em><b>Now</b></em>." Striga nips at her, knowing it's probably hard enough to hurt.</p><p>"<em>No</em>." Morana's pushing gently against her again, backing away. "Do you wish to stop this?"</p><p>Striga rolls her neck and snarls quietly, riding out the wrenching in her nerves at the lack of Morana's touch. "I do not."</p><p>"Then you need to play <em>nicely</em>." She say. "Let yourself be the center of my attention a little longer. I know you can."</p><p>Then again, Striga thinks, perhaps that's the crux of the matter; Striga doesn't know how to be the center of anything other than violence. She still doesn't know what to do with such open, abundant affection that is <em>all for her</em>. Such softness, in her mind, was meant to be earned, and she had yet to do anything to warrant it. She didn't feel like she deserved to be treated so sweetly without first giving it to Morana. <em>But Morana wouldn't let her</em>...</p><p>But Striga's curiosity is much too high to demand that this experiment end, and she simply <em>could </em><em><b>not</b></em> make herself disobey or break her lover's rules. Just couldn't.</p><p>Morana gives her a moment, sensing Striga is thinking. She allows herself to admire the tensing muscles of Striga's abdomen, a manifestation of her lover's resistance to her instincts. Mercy, she is so beautiful like this, though it seems torturous. Morana almost feels cruel, but she trusts that if Striga was truly suffering, she would say so.</p><p>"Can we continue?"</p><p>Striga tenses and grunts, then exhales. "We can."</p><p>Morana nods, mostly to herself, but doesn't reclaim her seat in Striga's lap. Instead she kneels between Striga's thighs, just enough space on the edge of the ottoman for her to perch there, and braces her hands right beside Striga's just behind her. She kisses Striga tenderly, smiling against her lips when Striga doesn't chase and instead reciprocates in kind. "Good girl," she purrs again, loving the needy sound she receives.</p><p>She drags her lips down, over Striga's proud chin and along the hard line of her jaw to follow the strong cords of her neck to her collarbone. Then she pulls away, giving Striga but a few seconds before closing her mouth around a blushing nipple. Striga's body stutters into a gentle arch with an equally unsteady whimper before dropping back to the ottoman.</p><p>The sensation crackles straight to Striga's core, making her womb clench powerfully, unexpectedly. She wants to press her thighs together, give herself a little friction, but gives a curt sob when she remembers that Morana is nestled between them. Now her sex is pounding with her pulse, and the raw need to be touched there surges, becoming more intense than she has ever felt before. Then there's the gentle edge of teeth around her nipple and she jolts, her hands tearing free of the cushion.</p><p>Morana immediately stops and straightens. "Striga,"</p><p>"<em>Fuck</em>," Striga's teeth snap together, her fangs catching firelight as she all but throws her hands behind her again.</p><p>Morana briefly takes stock of her lover, only a little distracted by the shimmering sweat on her silvery skin. "What do you need?"</p><p>"<em>You</em>," she swallows and takes a moment to collect a serious of quick breaths.</p><p>"Do you need release, love? Need me to set you free?"</p><p>Another broken sob, more body wide tension and a frantic nod.</p><p>"The rules-,"</p><p>"Please, Morana," she weeps, "please touch me. Finish this."</p><p>"Very well." Morana rises gracefully to her feet. "The chair is just behind you, I want you to lie back." And she gently cradles Striga's head, guiding her down, down, until she can rest against the cushion. "Hands behind your head."</p><p>Now the game changes, Striga realizes too suddenly. Before Morana would only touch a little, just enough to keep her nerves wary, but now she lavishes Striga with physical attention. Hands eagerly smooth over her body, fingers in the furrows of muscles, tongue and lips across her breasts and belly, and then she feels the edges of talons at the cut of her hipbones and Morana kneeling between her legs. Her frazzled mind barely has the time to register all of it before she's arching into a near sitting position at the first insistent swipe of Morana's tongue through her folds. She stops and starts to say something god knows how many times, but not a single word can't make it through.</p><p>Morana loves the way she tastes, her scent, and indulges herself accordingly. There's no guilt in it because she is still giving Striga exactly what she wants -perhaps not a quickly as she likes, but...</p><p>"You're so wet, and you taste so good, my love." she grins, feeling the vibrations of a gasping groan in the thigh pressing against her cheek. "Were it not for blood, I would need only to sate myself on you." She withholds a giggle as Striga arches, pulling with enough strength to drag the footstool closer to the chair with a whine of wood against marble. "Come back to me, darling."</p><p>"I <em>f-fuck</em>," Striga writhes in the chair, the pleasure bordering dangerously on pain. She keeps her fingers tightly laced and clutches, the dull pressured ache a keen reminder to keep them where they are. She has her bottom lip tucked tightly between her teeth, but then Morana drags her talons firmly -but carefully- down her belly as she pushes her slick tongue passed Striga's entrance and draws a helpless cry from her. Striga is positive she's never made that sound before.</p><p>And it's music to Morana's ears, her focus shifting to doing whatever it took to hear that sweet song again.</p><p>She's shaking again, now with no ability to suppress or hide it. Striga's hips mindlessly buck against her lover's mouth, chasing the slick friction and the sharp pulsing in her core. She swears she sees stars in the darkness of the blindfold, blue and gold and green, and it's dizzying. Morana's tongue curls inside of her, the pad of one thumb pressing softly against her clit and her core clenches, a grinding roar twisting out from somewhere deep in the roots of her being. Her body bows, holds high for a second, then crashes back down.</p><p>Morana eases back, smiling with beaming self-satisfaction as she beholds Striga's glistening, panting form. "You're so beautiful." she says, her smile opening like a wound at the powerful shudders that rattle Striga's body.</p><p>Morana rises to her feet, wiping the slick from her chin with her hand as she takes the few steps needed to kneel beside the chair where her lover lays splayed out, as if her body had been dashed to pieces against the soft cushions. With care she reaches to stroke Striga's cheek, her desperate noises and the way she leans into the tender touch so endearing.</p><p>"Let me see you." she begs, her voice tight and thready,</p><p>"Patience." Morana coos, working just the one hand behind Striga's head to steadily pull the bow undone.</p><p>The look Striga casts in this light is startling. Open, vulnerable, broken in a way, and the presence of light makes her round pitch pupils flux briefly before swelling wide again.</p><p>"How are you, love?"</p><p>Striga swallows loudly at the thickness in her throat. "Can I touch you now?"</p><p>No sooner does she nod than Striga is scrambling to sit up and pull Morana against her. She nuzzles Morana's belly, her arms wrapped tightly about her thighs and bracing along her spine, hands open to touch as much flesh as possible. She kisses loudly between her breasts, rumbling, sounding sated at last. Then she's standing and gathering Morana into her arms, her legs wobbling slightly.</p><p>Morana can't help but laugh, a little but bright sound. "Here I was going to ask if you wanted another."</p><p>"No." Striga growls resolute, a touch of teeth in her tone. She knows another climax would have been too much, if it was even possible for her at all. "I want <em>you</em>, and now I shall have you."</p><p>"Did you enjoy it at least?"</p><p>"We will discuss it <em>after</em>." Because Striga is still trying to suss that out for herself, and there simply is no more room in her head for anything other than her need to please Morana.</p><p>And <em>oh</em>, does Striga please her.</p>
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